Before she truly woke, his hand reached out to her. Everything was hard to see; her eyes blurred with tears and rage. The dream shattered, Yaro had done it all for nothing. She would not grasp that hand as she leapt out. She didn’t even know where she was or who he was. One question pounded her head, why didn’t he remember?
She’d never get an answer, she chose to lose it. Yet he, the person the ring pulled towards, the one who bore the aura of obsidian spikes and ivory coral, did not know her. She had nothing to expect, no kind of inkling on what would happen. But he was important to her, was she not the same?
Her wings were broken, her arms fell limply at her side, she could fly no longer. She stared up at those who perused her, that one humi standing atop the dragon’s great head. They waited as they had, watching her to see what she would do. A tower to her right yowled, the castle to her left draped a long shadow over her. After all of that, maybe it was time to rest.
She sat on the dusty ground, ignoring her surroundings. She had to heal, now, otherwise she may never fly again. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, it was one of the few things that scared her. She’d been so focused on a fantasy, on a reason, on something to do. Her self preservation was most important, her ability to get away. She tore into her flesh, wincing but numb. She began licking.
Calls of alarm came from the hole she beat through the ground into that strange place. The orbs of the tree lifted into the air, pulled away and disheartening in the wind. They were not meant for this world, ephemeral things meant to stay in one spot yet yearned for more. She never yearned for more, only taking what she needed.
She did not give in to them as they shackled her arms and legs together. She let the tall humi in black, barking breathy orders, lift her up onto the back of the drake. She strained her neck, licking what she could of the open wound. She’d have at least one wing fixed for now. Maybe she could insight some violence to lacerate the other, get into it. She laughed dryly.
Why? Why hadn’t he remembered her? His eyes were blank with confusion and fear. He’d... something about that was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. But what was she to do? She now found herself being taken somewhere, tied in watery shackles that made her lethargic.
It was him, she was positive, the one she’d been chasing for so long. The one that had vanished from her memory at that yon-bound door. She couldn’t remember why they were there, but it could not have been worth it. Nothing she did seemed worth it.
She managed to bring her wing around, cutting it on her numb fingers, a feeling of nothing against a feeling of nothing. She eyed her kidnapper who looked back with authority and something she didn’t care to parse. Now that she was in her other wing, she could fully heal and leave. They must have realized what Yaro was doing, a broken wing looks very different from a healed one. Did they care? Why did she?
Time blurred as they led her down a stone tunnel. She felt she was being taken to a prison of sorts, but did not care to identify. They did not speak her language, they probably didn’t even know it. She couldn’t talk her way out, not that she could otherwise. She blinked and they were in a cell. Yes, prison once more.
They left her; they clacked the cell with a hum. She’d only been behind bars five times before. Each was unique in the wards they used to keep people in, one electric bars and another an impassable barrier. She didn’t try finding out how this one worked.
---
She woke again, not knowing what time it was or when she went to sleep. It was dark, her entire body ached, her stomach growled. Why did they not kill her? She’d killed them, it would only have been fair. Wasn’t that what one did with a beast that bites? Put it down? She was worse than that, a beast that could think, a beast that bit with purpose, not instinct. To Yon with them all.
She sat in the dark, contemplating. She could escape, she could fly away and never be seen again. She could vanish from the world, living in some forgotten forest. She was strong enough. It’s what those who birthed her left her to. It was others who dragged her back, who pulled her in and suffocated her in culture and civilization that denied her.
She survived in the wild this entire time. Civilization was just as cruel, if not more due to intention. That person, he was as bad as everyone else. There was no way he could have forgotten her, not from that feeling, not even from the sight of her. He had lied to her with those eyes. He had feigned fright when truly, he hated her like everyone else. That was the only explanation. He hated her.
She hated him. She hated everyone. How dare they, even these people. They kept her alive, locked up in a cell, alive for a reason from Yon she couldn’t fathom. But they did. She was there, sitting in an aching body that shouldn’t even exist. Maybe they wanted to experiment on her, maybe they wanted her to be an attraction at some sick circus. Maybe he was in on this.
Maybe, this was his way of getting back at her. She’d done something to him in that eaten time. Something that made him leave, something that made him hate her. And after all she did for him! She endured torment, ridicule, starvation, exhaustion, just to fly to the ends of kald to find him. And there he sat, dumb, surrounded by people, safe and sound. How dare he.
Steps echoed the procession of three humi in red robes. Yaro looked at them, eyes red and teeth bared. With a wave of a hand, the tallest one opened the door. Yaro stood, ready to fight. They said, “XXstayXX.”
Then, they took it from her. With an ethereal hand, visible from a claw on their finger, they ripped her holder from her. They took her ring from her.
She surged, jaws open and ready to rip their throat out. A force pushed her back, sending her sprawling. Her chin scraped against the floor, blood trailing. She growled or groaned, she wasn’t quite sure. They still had it. They had taken it.
That familiar coldness washed over her. Her hands could not move, her legs could not move. They pinned her face down against the ground. They spoke that strange language for a few minutes. Yaro could do nothing. She wanted to do nothing.
Behind her, the left one brought out a long clear tube. They pulled it from a dark-seeping pot, the sharp end emerging with a brilliance in humming orange. It reminded her of when she received her tattoos. They were going to enchant her!
She struggled as they confidently glissade closer. The one binding her slammed her head to the ground, pulling it away and exposing her neck. She shouted at them to stop, nearly pleading as she’d never done before. They could not understand. She didn’t believe they would care if they did. The orange humming came closer. She could feel the deathly cold whisper vapors against her white skin.
She had to find him.
With a might more than her own, she broke form the restraints. She billowed her aura, making pressure so heavy the three fell to the ground. The weight of it was no longer sorrow as had saved her before, but rage. They would not enchant her. She would let no one change who she was. And those that did, that would harm her, would pay.
She kicked the humi who took her holder, sending them tumbling into the wall. She picked up her holder, crushing it in her hand. Smoke poured onto the ground, forming in all her belongings. Her robe. Her mask. Her ring. She picked up the ring and fit it on a finger. It pulled as it did, shining brilliantly with her orange cracks and green bubbles, pierced by a moss of purple and white. She grinned.
The way out of the building was easy. Up the stone stairs, through a hallway of terrified onlookers, and out the front door. People did try to stop her, security she presumed. Her mind was open to them, of course. If they felt the need to control her, they went right ahead. They found a wall of flame, burning from the inside as they curled on the ground.
Those who assaulted her physically did not fare much better. The people in this strange place, they all used catalysts; probably due to being weak. And they were, the heat from her whips a greater force than anything they tried, stronger than thunder spears even. She felt unstoppable.
Outside greeted her with a force of twenty tsohtsi and even more humi on their backs and littering the ground. The humi in black stood at their front, a long dark spear in hand. Yaro stood tall, fully exposed and ready to fight.
“You, foreign beast,” the humi said in Lald. Yaro stopped. “If you do not wish to die, you will lay down your arms.”
“And if you don’t get out of my way, you’ll die,” Yaro growled.
The humi nodded. Something in the way she looked at Yaro set her at unease. She did not look the way most did: disgust or anger. She looked at her as an opponent. “I will repeat, lay down your arms and we will let you live.”
Yaro stood tall, flame whips crackling, the only sound that could be heard over the light breeze of the day. The sayk beat down hard, warming the sandy ground beneath them. The humi in black took time to glance at Yaro’s ring. She snarled, clenching her fists and pulling them back. “You don’t get to decide if I live or not.”
“Very well,” she commanded. “Then, by the Kohp-.” Yaro beat her wings, kicking up a small tornado. She took to the sky in a bolt of flame, the whips slapping her tail against the sudden and immense drag. The wind picked her up, sending her sailing upwards and away. She had found him, it was time to end everything.
As she expected, thunder screamed past her and the tsohtsi and humi riders gave chase. She was weak, drained, and knew she would lose the fight if she tried. She was not willing to fall before and would not this time.
She’d already taken in her surroundings, deciding on the black mass in the distance of the sea of sand. Forests would have been preferable, but she doubted she’d be able to make it that far, though they were all around. She took a deep breath, absorbing some ambient fire into her flame sac, and remembered. The humi, though they did chase and attack her on the creatures before, were hesitant. The only one who wasn’t was the humi in black, but she remained on the ground this time, waiting with the majority of the force by the bunker she’d escaped from. Almost like…. No, yaro had no time to fantasize, she needed to survive. She needed to set things straight.
Her flame whips still created a turbulence around her, sending the forceful and ripping of the thunder spears narrowly missing her - mostly. A few did strike her, tearing scales and skin, but no major or threatening wounds.
She approached the creatures, their aura gradual and massive from so far away. They exuded a
strange hunger, not something that one needs, but something that just… was. The closer they got, the less she could perceive the pursuers, the more the hunger became the omnipresent state of the world. She hadn’t noticed it before, there was too much going on. But now with a plan and a reason, she could see why they were so afraid of these creatures. They would eat everything in their path, her included if given the chance.
She swallowed and dove into the mass of massive creatures. They were gorgeous, she idly thought. Huge ray-like things with oily black skin that became rainbows when she flew close enough. She dove to avoid a thunder spear bolt, swallowed by the mass and losing sight briefly.
She looked up to see the shadows crest the creature. She looked up to hunger. It’s mouth, that had to be what it was, writhed countless thousands of strands, like fingers grabbing for a hand as they fell from a cliffside. One could not see where they led, what horror was beneath whether it were teeth, acid, or a void straight to Yon.
Yaro fell. Her wings, they worked, she’d healed them. They were weak. She was weak. Her constitution, she actually wavered at that doom writhing above her, she’d allowed fear into her heart and control of her strings. And it stilled her, if only for a moment. Enough to become shot.
Her shoulder burned. She cursed under her breath. The first thought, a thunder spear wound would be so very draining to heal and would leave an enormous scar. Opposed to older weapons that use projectiles, a wound from a thunder spear tears through one, cutting a hole and ripping apart all in its path. Nothing is embedded, little can block one. The old plate would not save her, the new wards would only shrink the wound. The wound she now bore, the one that lost all feeling from her left shoulder to her left arm and wing.
She spiraled. They kept shooting. She’d lost that fear she had, the thing that blocked intelligent thought. She was not sad. She’d even lost her anger. She felt hollow as she fell.
They shot at her, missing from the wild way the wind threw her.
The creatures lazed through the air, flying on wings spanning fields. They did not care for her plight. They had no concept of what was occurring in their midsts. All that mattered to them was the next meal, where it was and how to get to it. She found herself jealous of their simplicity. If she were born with that kind of mind, maybe the wouldn’t wouldn't have been so bad. She’d already lived a simple life: find food, eat it, move on to the next spot.
But life was more complex for her. She had people in her life. A few she cared for, a few that had cared for her, and countless she had to interact with to live her life. So many she had to fight. So many she had to bring her harm. And one who had hurt her heart.
She flapped her one wing, sending her tumbling in a new direction. If she could just- a thunder spear bolt boomed past her, throwing her tumbling and her ear into a ring. She’d already planned her escape, her circumstances hadn’t changed the end goal. She just needed some drag upward.
Those yon-bound humi, if they had just kept their distance, they would have lost her, not had to deal with her, no longer had to risk their lives. Instead, they assaulted her, came in close, but not close enough for her whips to snap off what she needed to snap off.
If only she could just make them longer. The enchantments tattooed in her hands were wonderful, but limiting. The whips were the same every time, easily conjured flame with substance, temperature controlled by her will. But that was it, just how hot they got. That’s all she could afford at the time. It’s all she thought she would need.
Another gale hit her, gouging out skin and scale from her left thigh and sending her in a new direction. She could only create a difference in air pressure from the heat. But they were skilled, learning to compensate the more they shot. They’d hit her twice, it wouldn't be long before she would be full of holes, before they would actually kill her.
She’d lived through so much, fought and won so often. Winning only consisted of getting away, of living another day, whether that meant removing the threat or removing herself. There was no way of eliminating the twenty assailing her, she had to get away. She just needed to redirect herself.
That was it! Yaro pulled her good wing in, using her good arm to tuck her wing and arm in. She spiraled, only the one whip scalding where she held and where it licked her. The whip may have come from the enchantment, but it was a part of her, just like her horns, just like her claws, and just like her scales, just like her flames. She grew them and used them, they came from her. She may not be able to shape her horns, one would always be shorter than the other, but she could use them to skewer. She could use her whip to glide.
With enough distance down now, Yaro released her broken wing, letting it flail uselessly. She swung the whip around her body, grabbing it with a foot so it arched across her back. It burned, but it had to be done.
With the fire secured and turned low, she grabbed the useless wing again, draping it over the fire. She jerked up, the pressure of the heat billowing her feathers and dragging her upward. Her shoulder bled with it all, creating sparkling droplets like rain below her. She had done it, she was aloft once more.
She coasted up, the shadow covering her in darkness. Her pursuers became eclipsed by the dark creature, vanishing with the clouds, with the sayk. In its place, a world of darkness and terrible things writhing and lurking, she belonged with the horror, for she too was a monster.
Adjusting her leg and arm to angle her wing and flame, she increased the heat and fell upwards. She fell into the mouth of the beast. The tendrils were velvety, caressing her and welcoming her to her doom. She knew it wouldn’t work, but it was the only option she had, the only place she could hide, the only place they wouldn’t follow. She was a fool.
She would be consumed, just like everything else. These beasts weren't creatures of intelligence, they just hungered, and Yaro would be the next meal. She had hoped they may spare her, not wanting a foreign and burning body in their stomach. The tendrils dragged her up, pushed her further into the velvety darkness. It was warm.
At least, she thought what might be her last thought, I went out on my own terms. She increased the heat of her one whip. The mouth did not care, she was but a tiny coal that flew into one’s mouth while traveling. She wouldn't even be spat out, she was so insignificant to them.
The world stopped. She became suspended in the wriggling velvet, countless mass of tentacles touching every part of her body, licking her wounds. She supposed they may actually enjoy her taste. It’s not often to find a meal flying into one’s open maw.
The tentacles receded.
Yaro found herself in a pitch room. She laid on an ever moving carpet. They were still tasting her. She could taste them too, licking without thought. They spoke in her mind, not words but a concept: Beyond, darkness encroaches. Below, hope slumbers.
She didn’t have time to think, she would lose consciousness soon. She had to seal the wound, she had to… she had to tell him.
The sayk fell and the zuyg rose.
